


Cutting off Stopping Thoughts

by pssychotropical



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Jeno's a submissive top, Long-Term Relationship, M/M, PWP, everything's consensual and pre-planned, spicing up their sex life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:15:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24558262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pssychotropical/pseuds/pssychotropical
Summary: "Jaemin can't see his reaction, body turned towards the stranger, but it doesn't matter anyway. It's all about the fact that Jeno doesn't scramble to his feet and doesn't intervene, that he doesn't show up right by Jaemin's side, because by staying at the bar and watching the scene unfold from a distance, Jeno can prove that he's a good boy."
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 63





	Cutting off Stopping Thoughts

First time it happens, they're in Babylon, Jaemin's favourite club that every month organizes themed parties, an absolute must to attend. Back in his old life of a single literature student, Jeno never imagined himself coming to a place like this. But now, here he is, sitting at the bar and watching Jaemin depart into the dancing crowd.

He has a glass of whisky at his hand, which he takes a mouthful of, noticing out of the corner of his eye how Jaemin's walk grows sexier the farther he gets from Jeno, shoulders beginning to sway to the music before the rest of his body joins them. He doesn't go too far, though; from where Jeno's seated he can still see the half-transparent fabric of his boyfriend's shirt and the shimmering gold buttons of his black jacket. He can see the pinkish shade of Jaemin's hair, now glistening in the changing colours of the club's ceiling lights, the exact curve of the man's back and his little butt, so little that even with his legs squeezed into a pair of ultra tight jeans there's still too much fabric. Jeno hates Jaemin's ultra tight jeans from the bottom of his heart; it always takes so much time to peel them off.

Not detaching his eyes from Jaemin's silhouette even for a second, Jeno takes another swallow of whisky. Jaemin has now started dancing, all those moves Jeno is well familiar with from a close proximity, usually feeling them against his own body as Jaemin leads both of them around the dancefloor. But now he's alone, and Jeno's at the bar, and he can swear that for a split second Jaemin looks back at him, one last smile of that shiny pair of angelic lips

Jeno always repeats that it was Jaemin's smile that made him fall in love with the man in the first place. One smile and Jeno was a goner, no way of turning back. There's something about the way those little lips curve and how the pearly white teeth show up, and how it all comes together, making every smile, half-smile and smirk, even the tiniest one, a special event of its own. When Jaemin smiles, to Jeno or to anyone else, it always makes Jeno's heart melt.

Just as he's thinking about it all, about how he first met Jaemin at college, how they fell in love and became boyfriends, and how it's been three years now that they've lived together, someone shows up right at Jaemin's side and the brief look Jaemin's just been sending in Jeno's direction is gone. The man's quite the type you usually meet at gay clubs such as this one; rather beefy, extremely confident in his own skin, with some facial hair but not too much of it. He's wearing a sleeveless t-shirt and he puts his hand on Jaemin's waist, and if that was any other occasion than today, Jeno would already be storming towards them, immediately jerking the hand off of his boyfriend's body. It's often happened in the past, too often for Jeno's liking, because Jaemin's just the type of guy that attracts the attention of all kinds of men.

But today, it's different. Even though it requires some effort on Jeno's part, he manages to stay motionless in his seat, one hand on the whisky glass, the other slightly clenching on the edge of the bar. Jaemin can't see his reaction, body turned towards the stranger, but it doesn't matter anyway. It's all about the fact that Jeno doesn't scramble to his feet and doesn't intervene, that he doesn't show up right by Jaemin's side, because by staying at the bar and watching the scene unfold from a distance, Jeno can prove that he's a good boy. And Jaemin wants him to be a good boy.

The music is playing so loud over the dancefloor that the stranger has to lean in and speak into Jaemin's ear, and for a long moment, the two of them are so close to each other that they merge into one; Jeno can't see the exact contours of their silhouettes because of the angle, and he probably wouldn't tell even if they have already started kissing. All he sees is the back of Jaemin's head and part of his left cheek, behind it a looming figure of the other man. His hand seems to be strengthening its grip on Jaemin's waist, and just in that moment, a bunch of people walk right in front of Jeno, obscuring the view for a good few seconds and making Jeno's heart drop in his chest. When they pass, his eyes quickly scan the crowd.

He has no trouble localizing the couple again, of course, but the momentary rush of panic sends cold sweat down his neck. The stranger now has both of his hands on Jaemin's waist and they seem to be dancing, or whatever you can call the movements their bodies make. Jaemin being there and Jeno at the bar, patiently waiting, fully compliant with Jaemin's instructions, it slowly starts to build a heat down in Jeno's stomach. He didn't expect it, or at least not so fast, but it's already there and slightly embarrassed by the fact, he busies himself with his whisky.

He drinks it, orders another one. Someone sitting on the stool right next to his tries to speak to him, but when Jeno doesn't respond, the attempt is cut short. He pays for his second whisky and turns back towards the dancefloor, and at this point, the stranger is undeniably groping Jaemin's body. And they're kissing. Jaemin's eyes are closed.

It lasts for what may just as well be a couple of hours but is in fact two songs, and when Jaemin finally returns to the bar, Jeno needs to take a deep breath in. His lungs have been running out of oxygen.

Jaemin takes the empty seat beside Jeno, almost as if he's yet another stranger trying to hit on him. "And how was it?" he asks, taking Jeno's whisky out of his hand. He drinks it, waiting for a reaction.

Jeno has to clear his throat in order not to let his voice sound embarrassingly low and hoarse. "I think it worked," he admits, a bit ashamed of the fact, one hand scratching the back of his neck. The shame is gone, though, as soon as the familiar sparkles of content shine in Jaemin's eyes.

"So you liked it?" Jamin asks. Jeno's neck flushes and he can feel the air growing even hotter inside the club.

"I guess I did?" Jaemin's hand lands on his thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "But it was really tough," he confesses, the words being an actual representation of the confusion he's feeling right now.

Jaemin puts their whisky down as he leans towards Jeno. "You did so well," he coos encouragingly, before turning towards the barman. His hand leaves Jeno's thigh as he brings his wallet out of the pocket of his trousers and orders another glass, for his boyfriend.

There's still a lot of uncertainty between them, when Jaemin's eyes turn back to Jeno's, both of them trying to read the other one's face and decipher the emotions it may or may not betray. It's the first time they did it and it was Jaemin's suggestion. And Jeno knows that even if he likes it, which he does, there's a proof right in his underwear, not fully there, but surely a build-up, they still don't need to do it. They can stop right there. Say whatever is necessary to be said, and end the whole plan.

Jaemin doesn't prompt him to speak. Knowing that Jeno's in the middle of figuring his thoughts out, he keeps his face neutral. The third whisky is placed in front of them and neither him nor Jeno picks it up yet.

Jeno clears his throat yet again. "I did well?" he asks and his voice comes out sounding different than how he normally speaks. It's much softer and slightly higher-pitched, and it surprises Jeno, almost like it's someone else talking, a third person sitting together with them.

Jaemin smiles. His eyes momentarily drop to the floor, then get back to Jeno's face. Jeno's stare is serious, and while anticipating Jaemin's response, he almost forgets to blink. "Absolutely," Jaemin confirms. "Nana's really proud of you right now."

It's like a bolt of lightning running through Jeno's body, and he has to immediately look away, last minute keeping himself in check, because the words, together with the tone of Jaemin's voice, so confident and sweet, they almost make him forget they're in a public place. "I don't know," Jeno says then, his voice back to normal. It's like there's something inside of him fighting to get behind the steer, and it takes a great lot of effort to win against it. "It's kind of weird, isn't it?" he asks. He picks up the whisky Jaemin's just bought him and drinks it, in an attempt to look casual and unbothered. In actuality, his whole body feels numb but also on fire, and it's just waiting for Jaemin to tell him what to do.

"What's weird about it?" Jaemin retorts. He sounds a little bit annoyed, but also reassuring, and Jeno doesn't know how those two things go together so well. "If you like it, what's so weird about it?"

Both elbows on the bar and hands on the glass, Jeno glances back at Jaemin. "Do _you_ like it?"

The man makes a sound deep in his throat, which means Jeno shouldn't even be asking. "Of course I do." He turns on his stool, his body now mimicking Jeno's posture: he places both of his elbows on the bar and crosses his arms. Jeno can't help but look at his boyfriend's lips, which don't give off any signs of having just been kissed and sucked onto, maybe bitten, and Jaemin notices that. "He's touched my ass and briefly my crotch. Through the fabric only."

"I've seen it."

"Good." Jaemin looks him in the eyes. "How do you feel about it?"

Jeno looks straight ahead, at the neon-colored shelves full of alcohol bottles, hesitating. "I think I got hard," he says, in a lowered voice, as soon as the thought hits him, otherwise he probably wouldn't ever let the words out.

Jaemin swallows. He nods his head. "And how do you feel about _that_?"

Pause.

"Can we go home now?" Jeno asks, all of a sudden, his voice gaining a weird, whiny quality to it. He leans closer to Jaemin, eyebrows furrowing on his forehead, and one hand nervously tapping on his thigh. "Can you... praise me when we get home?"

It's two am when they leave the club and it takes a longer while to catch a taxi home, but once they're in it, time flies faster than Jeno can register it. One moment they're standing in front of the club, Jaemin wrapped in Jeno's coat as the autumnal wind brushes through the streets, then they're inside the taxi and Jaemin does all the talking, his hand never leaving Jeno's thigh and his voice so good at sounding sober. And finally, one blink of an eye later, Jaemin's paying for the ride, closing the door, and they're back outside, in front of the block of apartments where they live. They climb up the staircase, somewhat dizzy, slightly losing their balance every couple of steps, and once the door to their apartment closes behind them, Jaemin pins Jeno against it.

Their first kiss that night is very slow. Even though it may not seem like it from Jaemin's appearance, the man has a strong grip, and when they're kissing, he keeps Jeno's head still, holding it by the chin, not allowing Jeno to take a breath more often than it's strictly necessary. When he finally pulls away, biting onto Jeno's lower lip, then tracing his jaw with kisses, Jeno is left breathless.

"Should I be worried by how quickly you got that guy wrapped around your finger?" he asks, jokingly. By the sound of his voice, it's possible to decipher that he's still keeping his hands on the steer.

Jaemin hums with satisfaction. He has his mouth pressed to Jeno's throat now, feeling the pulse with his lips and tongue. His hands are possessively holding Jeno by his satin shirt and he's almost fully in his role by now. "You got jealous, huh?" he murmurs against Jeno's neck.

"I did," Jeno admits, which confession somehow makes him feel hot. Admitting the amount of power Jaemin can hold over him makes his whole body burn.

Jaemin hums again. "But you stayed in your seat. Just like I told you."

The words being spoken out in Jaemin's sexy, appreciative voice, they quickly bring back everything Jeno felt in the club minutes ago. What maybe never left Jeno's body, only stayed hidden during the taxi ride, ready to be let out at Jaemin's request. At his command.

When he's thinking of it, his dick slowly stirs in his underwear. Other than that he doesn't budge, not even to wrap his arms around Jaemin's back. Standing still, with his chin raised up so that Jaemin has a better access licking his way down Jeno's collar bones, he's waiting for the most desired words to come out of the his boyfriend's mouth. He needs them.

What happened accidentally just a couple of weeks back, initially instilling a sense of confusion in both of them, now may finally be put to full use. And it's a thrilling realisation.

After another couple of excruciatingly long moments, Jaemin finally detaches himself from Jeno's chest. He steps aside, takes a good look at Jeno's flushed face and smiles. "You're so into this," he comments, and Jeno doesn't know if he's being spoken to or if it's Jaemin speaking to himself. Either way, a weird sensation runs through his body, weird and unfamiliar but at the same time very pleasant. "Will you get undressed for me?" he asks, the question sounding more like an order. Jeno's hands immediately move, fingers beginning to unbutton his shirt, eyes not leaving Jaemin's face even for a second. And then, it comes. As a reward. With this specific kind of warmth audible in Jaemin's voice. "Good boy."

Even though it doesn't ultimately leave Jeno's mouth, there's a sudden moan rising in his throat the exact moment he hears the words. His knuckles are reddened with the autumnal cold, and his fingers fail to speed up the process of unbuttoning, disregarding his desperate tries. When the shirt finally drops to the floor, Jaemin doesn't see it happen. He's standing with his back to Jeno, hanging his coat with no hurry and putting his keys down on the furniture set which they bought last year when renovating the hall.

The sudden loss of Jaemin's attention makes Jeno whine. "Jaemin," he calls to him, his voice freshly changed. Then, he corrects himself, "Nana."

Jaemin turns back to him and the smile is still on his lips, calming Jeno's nerves. "Go on," he orders. "Completely naked."

And then comes a longer pause in which no words are being spoken and it's only Jaemin's eyes following Jeno's stripping performance, in silence registering Jeno's every move and all of Jeno's shallow breaths, how his flushed chest rises and falls and how his muscled arms tense in the cold. First it's the belt, undone, followed by the fly, unzipped, and then he slides his pants down his legs, together with the underwear, his erection immediately springing out of it. Stepping out of the pants, Jeno bends a little. He pushes the pile of clothes to the side, then rolls the sock off of his left foot using his right foot, then the other way around. And only after that, he's completely naked, just like Jaemin has told him to be. He's standing almost at the very entrance to their apartment and he doesn't know what to do with his hands, fidgeting a little, then holding the left elbow with the other hand, awaiting further instructions. He has goosebumps all over his skin, out of cold and nerves, but also at this weird sense of vulnerability he's showing to his boyfriend, feeling as if it was the first time Jaemin saw him naked.

In contrast to him, Jaemin's still fully dressed. The whole time Jeno's been stripping, his position hasn't changed one bit: his arms are tightly crossed on his chest and the fingers of his one hand keep playing with his lower lip, absent-mindedly, the smile no longer to be seen. But it's about something else this time. It's about the look in Jaemin's eyes, which are significantly darker than before, even from a distance, and they seem so serious, like when Jaemin's captivated by his work and Jeno can't drag his attention away from it. They're serious like when Jaemin receives a work-related phone call and waves Jeno out of the room, wanting all the distractions to be gone from his vision, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed together. It's the kind of seriousness that makes Jeno aware that he needs to pay attention.

His cock stirs at the thought. He's never fully realized this before, only had a growing inkling during the last two years of their relationship, but Jaemin being serious, demanding, almost authoritative, it does something to him.

Just like being praised.

"You're so handsome," Jaemin says, changing his voice to that particular sweet tone Jeno likes so much, pronouncing every syllable very carefully, as if to make sure Jeno can understand him perfectly well. "All this gym workout really brought some results, huh? Look at your muscled arms, baby."

Jeno has to close his eyes. The content of the compliment isn't something they planned, unlike most of the other details, which they discussed beforehand, making sure that the sex is just how they both want it, and as a result, it surprises Jeno in the most pleasant way. He takes a deep breath in, and when he opens the eyes again, Jaemin's smiling. The angelic look brightens his face, making it abundantly clear that he's proud of the reaction he's drawing out of Jeno. The awareness of that, of how both of them are enjoying their little performance, sends sparkles all across Jeno's chest.

"Come give Nana a kiss," Jaemin requests. The words are followed by actions almost immediately; walking across the corridor, Jeno feels strangely numb and lightweight, as if his body was hovering over the floor, or being dragged forward by some invisible force which he can't oppose and doesn't want to anyway. When he gets close enough, Jaemin wraps his arms around his neck and opens his mouth to let Jeno inside. This time, it's Jeno's turn to lead the kiss. Which he does, making sure to earn his favourite type of moan out of Jaemin's mouth, the initial one, low and restrained, a little bit surprised and consequently dizzyingly satisfying.

Jaemin's hands run down Jeno's neck, then shoulders, heating up his skin and slightly scratching it with his neatly filed nails. Then, he returns to Jeno's head, gingerly patting his hair and tucking an unruly strand behind Jeno's ear. "Good boy," he purrs, when they pause to breathe. "You're such a good boy."

Jeno can't stop himself when his hips buck against Jaemin's crotch, and the words are to be exclusively blamed for it. His exposed cock most likely leaves a stain of precome on Jaemin's tight black jeans, but Jaemin doesn't reprimand him for that, instead continuing to pet Jeno's hair. Desperate for more friction, Jeno tightly fits his body against Jaemin's, pressing Jaemin's thigh against his leaking cock, and rocking twice before feeling guilty about it, and realising he may be squeezing Jaemin a bit too hard against the wall.

"What do we do next?" he asks Jaemin, voice hoarse and breathless, aware that he can't make himself take any more action without Jaemin first telling him to. The thing inside him, the numbing, tiny force that leads his thoughts, it tells him to follow orders. Without them, he can't go on.

Awaiting Jaemin's response, he scans the man's face. Jaemin has now gotten fully hard as well, his cock uncomfortably pressed against his thigh, perfectly visible under the fabric of his tight jeans. And he's a bit breathless too, blinking his eyes in confusion before realizing what he's being asked for by Jeno.

A few seconds pass, in which it seems like Jaemin rushes back into his role, following this momentary, out-of-character weakness. "Take my pants off," he tells Jeno. He clears his throat and repeats, in a sharper tone. "I want you to take them off and make Nana feel good."

Jeno makes a sound, which is both a hum of agreement and a whiny moan.

It takes a lot of effort to take these off, he remembers, kneeling in front of Jaemin with his bare knees touching the cold floorboards. When he unzips the fly and begins peeling the fabric off, Jaemin keeps his hands in Jeno's hair, eyes looking down on him, narrowed in pleasure but sharp with confidence, which is right back there. "You're so handsome," he coos. "I could just look at you like this." The jeans are now below Jaemin's knees and to have them fully taken off, Jaemin has to lift his one leg, then the other, allowing Jeno to release them from the elastic fabric, together with his ankle socks. Jaemin's legs are soft to touch, smoothly shaved just the other day when they took a bath together. Jeno presses a hurried kiss on Jaemin's inner thigh.

"Now take off the rest," Jaemin orders, and Jeno looks up at him, through his thick eyelashes, a moment of breathless hesitation followed by his hands slipping the man's briefs down. Still kneeling, he has Jaemin's cock in front of his face, and without saying a word, just by looking into Jaemin's eyes, he asks, can he please suck it, please. Jaemin doesn't need to use his words either; a slight press of his hand against the back of Jeno's head is enough for a response.

Jeno stamps a series of kisses alongside Jaemin's length before taking it in his mouth, first only sucking at the tip, then bringing it deep, almost to the back of his throat. He releases it with a wet pop and quickly looks up at Jaemin. There's a praise that follows his glance. "Good boy. Just like that." The most important two words which set Jeno's body on fire, spoken in Jaemin's sweet, cooing voice.

Jeno takes it back in, sharp cheeks hollowing, then releases, then does it again until Jaemin's hand presses on his head once more.

"I don't want to..." Jaemin trails off, his voice growing shuddery. He pats Jeno's head for the last time, a signal understandable for both of them. "Stand up," he orders and Jeno springs to his feet.

"Do we go...?" Instead of finishing the question, Jeno makes a vague move towards their bedroom.

Jaemin immediately shakes his head no. "I want it now," he whispers, impatience audible in his voice. "Be a good boy and fuck me right now. Can you do that for me?"

There's a moment of hesitation, Jeno's eyes darting around and calculating, but in the end, it's a position he's familiar with by now, they have practised it before, and with Jaemin's body being so light to lift, it all depends solely on Jeno's strength and his hands knowing where to grip, how to support Jaemin's weight when getting him off the ground and sliding his cock inside. Jaemin moans, for the first time openly, quite loud for himself, and a moment later Jeno's hands are firmly pressed to the wall, Jaemin's both legs dangling off of his arms and thighs securely positioned against Jeno's chest.

When they kiss, Jaemin must feel his own precome in Jeno's mouth, alongside all the whisky they ordered back in the club, and thinking of the whisky, Jeno remembers about the stranger who's kissed Jaemin before him, whose kisses Jeno was forced to watch from afar while waiting for his own turn, waiting to Jaemin to make the decision and come back to him. The memory of the scene hits Jeno with double its previous force and his moves inside of Jaemin become more confident, gaining speed. He's doing his best, trying to impress Nana. He wants to earn his praises like the real good boy he is.

It's all so intense for both of them that they don't last long, at least not as long as usual. It seems like it's merely one second later and Jaemin's already coming, streams of hot hitting Jeno's tensed, muscular chest, which he worked on at the gym exactly for this occasion, and Jeno knows that he has to follow soon, prompted by the view of Jaemin's wet eyelashes fluttering during his orgasm, his little mouth open just wide enough to let out a silent moan, and then his teeth bitting his bottom lip in the most endearing way possible. That's all it takes for Jeno's to reach his own climax, spilling inside of his boyfriend while reflexively mumbling his name, over and over again, face pressed in the crook of Jaemin's neck.

Maybe they're still a little bit drunk on whisky, and a little bit high on their orgasms, but Jeno manages to carry Jaemin to the bathroom nevertheless, and they both take a shower, four in the morning.

When Jeno wakes up, the other side of the bed is already empty, and judging by the faint sound coming from the kitchen, Jaemin has begun preparing their breakfast.

He grabs his glasses from the night stand and checks the time on Jaemin's cell phone while hurriedly pushing the mess of his brown hair off of his forehead. It's already past noon, which prompts him to scramble out of the bed, feet finding a pair of slippers haphazardly scattered on the floor. On his way through the hall, he stops to check himself in the mirror, one more time pushing fingers through his hair, which is still a bit wet after last night's shower, a little curly too. He's wearing an old, white t-shirt with a pair of grey sweats, stretched in the waist and hanging low on his hips. An outfit very similar to Jaemin's.

The man's standing before the cooker, a spatula in his hand and something sizzling on the frying pan, and as soon as Jeno walks in, his body gravitates towards his boyfriend. He presses his chest against Jaemin's back and places his chin on Jaemin's shoulder, arms wrapped around the other man's belly.

"Morning," he mutters into Jaemin's shoulder, smelling his skin, then placing a kiss on his neck.

Jaemin turns his head and takes a glance at Jeno, immediately reciprocating the smile. "You're just right on time."

Jeno chuckles. He lifts one hand and moves it in the air, as if to push the smell of food towards his nostrils. "That's what woke me up." For a moment longer, he lingers on Jaemin's shoulder, watching the man skilfully turn the eggs to the other side while holding him in his arms.

Then, he takes his hands off and sits at the table, letting Jaemin finish the breakfast. The eggs are served with fried mushrooms and a bunch of random veggies found in the fridge, cut together and mixed with a sauce Jeno can't put a name on, Jaemin's usual inspired creation with no recipe.

Once the dishes are on the table, Jaemin sits down as well. "Would you look at that," he says, leaning towards Jeno and brushing a strand of hair off of his forehead. "You can't stop smiling. Was it really that good yesterday?"

Hearing the words, Jeno's smile deepens, his eyes turning into narrow slits. "It was great. You were great."

Jaemin shrugs theatrically. "That's what I was expecting to hear," he replies, in a tone of feigned overconfidence, which he sometimes uses on purpose, especially for jokes, assuming a role of a pompous douche. Jeno's well familiar with it.

A moment passes and then the expression on Jaemin's face changes, smirk fading away, its place taking a look of sincerity. "I'm glad we did it," he says.

Jeno nods his head. "I'm glad you suggested it."

Jaemin blinks his eyes, unconvinced but amused, eyelashes landing thick and heavy against his cheeks. His arms are crossed on the table when he leans in again, nudging Jeno's side. "I only suggested putting your ideas into practice." When their eyes connect, Jeno doesn't look away. "We should do it again then," Jaemin tells him. "When you feel like it."

Jeno hums in agreement. He moves his whole body in Jaemin's direction, tilting his head to a side before grazing their lips together in a soft peck.


End file.
